


Raging Embers

by SLVRDraconis



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan
Genre: Canon characters present, F/F, F/M, First PJO fanfic, M/M, Mentions of past child abuse, Mostly Canon Compliant, OP OC, Original Character(s), Violence, Will Add Tags As We Go, dark themes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-12
Updated: 2020-05-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:21:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,185
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24145045
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SLVRDraconis/pseuds/SLVRDraconis
Summary: A mortal son of Tartarus hidden since birth. The first demi-primordial to ever be born. Struggling to find his place, he'll find allies, enemies, and shake the foundation of Olympus.  Mostly canon compliant except with OC inserts.  Slightly OP main OC because demi-primordial. Not completely decided on pairings except for two OC relationships.
Relationships: Original OC/ Original OC
Kudos: 2





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The first chapter of my first PJO fanfic featuring an OC I've had for awhile. I hope you guys like it and if you want me to continue just let me know! This is just a really short prologue for dramatic flair. XD Rated M for safety in coming chapters.

“We’re losing her! We need to raise her BP now!” A doctor yelled.

  
“There’s no time! Perform an emergency C-section or we’re going to lose them both!” Another screamed urgently, already grabbing a scalpel.

  
The ICU room was filled with the sound of beeping and urgent voices for some time before a piercing yell broke the air just as another machine started to wail. One life began as another ended.

  
“It’s a boy. Healthy too, thank goodness.” The first doctor said quietly, already mourning for the newborn orphan.

  
“Time of death, huh, exactly midnight.” The second doctor declared with a sardonic smile.

  
The newborn opened his eyes, revealing the irises to be a blazing mix of red and orange. The color of fire encasing a pitch-black pupil.  
The mortal son of Tartarus was born.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zyon's childhood is filled with fire and chaos. It's a wonder he even survived. At least he makes his first friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First official chapter! Let me know what you guys think! Zyon is 2 years older than Percy FYI, just to help you guys with the timeline.

The sound of pounding footsteps reached his ears and the young child pressed back more tightly against the brick behind him. He shivered from the biting wind and tried not to cry out from the pain in his twisted ankle. He wouldn’t let them find him, he couldn’t. His tiny hands tugged harshly at his jet-black hair as stress overwhelmed him.

“Where did he go? Zyon! Come here! It’s ok!” One of the orphanage caretakers called out, her voice shaking with concern. She clutched a horribly burned hand to her chest as she looked around desperately. Zyon desperately wanted to go to her. The caretakers were nice to him. But he could not. Bad things happened when he was around. People got burned for no reason. He did not want to hurt his friends anymore, so he had to leave.

“Zyon please! What happened? Come back!” Another voice called, this time further away.

The little five-year old stifled a sob and covered his mouth with a hand to prevent himself from calling back to them. He so desperately wanted to go back! To be warm and safe and cared for. But he knew if he did, someone else would be burned. It was for the best.

Zyon didn’t know how long he stood there, crouched against the brick. It felt like an eternity. But suddenly a deep growl sounded from the alley behind him and Zyon felt a brush against his mind. _Hunger._ But not his own. He slowly looked behind himself to see the biggest dog he’d ever seen. It had blood red eyes and fangs the size of his arm.

“Oh, a wolf?” Zyon asked in shock, not processing the situation at all. His eyes met the wolves and he felt a jolt in his spine.

The big wolf tilted its head. _Confusion._ Again, not his own. _Shock_ , his and the wolf’s? At least they were on the same page.

But then Zyon’s mind was overwhelmed with a surge of _awe_ and _protective instinct_. The wolf stepped forward and bent its head down to sniff Zyon. It then licked his face with a wag.

“Oh. Nice to meet you too. I’m Zyon.” The little child said cheerfully patting the hellhound’s head. The hound then gently picked him up by his shirt collar and placed him on its back.

“What are you doing? Ah where are we going??” He asked as a swirl of shadows and darkness surrounded the two. Zyon squeezed his eyes shut and wrapped his tiny hands around the hellhound’s fur. When he blinked open his eyes again it was to a hellscape. The sky pitch black, the ground jagged glass like rocks with a river of fire cutting through.

“Oh.” Zyon whispered. “So... you’re not a wolf?” _Amusement._

Zyon pouted. “You’re laughing at me! Well then what are you? And where are we?”

“You are in Tartarus little demigod.” A voice called out. The river of fire bubbled and a woman made of fire stepped out.

“Tartarus?”

“Yes. The abyss. I am Phlegethon, the spirt of this river. Now why would a hellhound bring you here?” The women asked taking a step forward only to pause when the hellhound growled. Phlegethon tilted her head and took an assessing look at Zyon. After a moment her eyes widened.

“By the Gods. You are his son. You’re a demi-primordial.” She whispered in shock. “What is your name young lord?”

“Young lord? I’m Zyon. Zyon Lunarium. And whose son? Do you know who my dad is?!?” Zyon asked desperately. He knew nothing of his parents, only that his mom had died having him.

Phlegethon gave a sad smile. “Yes, young lord. Your father is Tartarus himself.”

Zyon tilted his head. “I thought you said this place was Tartarus. We’re _inside_ my father??”

Phlegethon burst out laughing as Zyon felt increased _amusement_ from the hellhound. “No! Your father Tartarus is the spirit of this place. Just as I am Phlegethon of the Phlegethon river.” She clarified, trying to smother her laughter.

Zyon nodded sagely. “Ok. So why am I here? Can I meet my dad?” He asked eagerly, his young eyes wide with excitement.

Phlegethon smiled fondly. “No, I’m afraid not. The Ancient Laws prevent even the Primordial Gods from raising their own kids. As to why you are here. I’m guessing you had nowhere else to go and this hellhound thought it’d be best if you were in your father’s domain. Your father has many enemies that would seek to hurt you.” She explained gravely.

Zyon sniffled, overwhelmed. “Ok. So now what?”

Phlegethon grimaced. “Now you survive and train. Good luck.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~Page Break~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Over the next 7 years Zyon trained. He observed and fought monsters until they began to fear him. At first monsters either befriended him or tried to kill him to show they were stronger than the Pit’s own blood. But as he grew and matured, mastering dual swords he’d made himself, they all began to respect him, even fear him. Zyon fought with a ferocity and lethality that even the most dangerous of monsters had to respect. Phlegethon helped him to master his fire as it was linked to the Phlegethon river (as was his eye color) and soon he could conjure and control the flames at will. His ability to understand monster emotions and intentions served him well and gave him an edge in battle. And by the time he was 12 he’d become one of the most feared creatures of the Pit. He’d done more than survived. The Primordial blood in his veins had helped him to thrive.

Presently Zyon was cleaning his blades. The metal was a mix of celestial bronze and iron crafted in the Phlegethon river. It would protect him from monster and mortals alike. The handles were wrapped in black monster leather from an unnamed abomination that Zyon had slayed. The young man was sitting on the bank with his feet in the Phlegethon river, using it almost as a hot spring as he tended to his weapons. There was a shimmer in the river’s surface and Phlegethon herself appeared.

“Zyon, your father approaches.” She warned, her eyes betraying her concern. The demi-primordial startled.

“What?!” Zyon had never met his father, not even after all this time. He instantly shot to his feet and got into a fighting stance. Who knew what a visit from his father could mean?

The sky of Tartarus darkened, and the air became scalding hot. The river behind him seemed to thrash against its bank, pulled by some invisible wind. Eyes narrowing, Zyon watched as a spot in front of him rippled an out stepped a man. A man with matching black hair and fire colored eyes. Except this man’s irises were actually rings of fire. He wore armor and carried a large sword attached to his hip. The monsters nearby all scattered in terror.

“Son. You’ve done well. It’s nice to finally meet you.” The man’s voice was a deep rumble that echoed across the landscape and inside Zyon’s head.

The 12-year-old frowned harshly. “Father. So nice to meet you after 12 years.” He said sarcastically.

The Primordial smirked harshly. “Yes. I suppose I could have stopped by sooner, but the Ancient Laws are not to be trifled with.”

“And yet here you are now. What changed?” Zyon shot back with his own smirk, relaxing his stance slightly.

Tartarus actually chuckled. He eyed his son appraisingly. “You’ve grown powerful, just as I knew you would. Just as your mother was.” He trailed off, and actually looked mournful for a second. Zyon blinked and it was gone. The Primordial continued. “I did care for her you know. But no mortal body can carry a Primordial’s blood and live.”

Zyon’s eyes narrowed. That explained his mother. “I appreciate the sentiment. But why are you telling me this now?”

“I’ve come to send you to the surface. You’ve grown all you can down here. I figured I’d answer a question you’d likely been asking yourself for years.” Tartarus stated.

“Is that why you sent that hellhound to bring me here? To grow powerful?”

Tartarus smirked maniacally. “Yes. There is no better place to make my mortal son powerful then my own domain. Now go.”

There was another ripple in the space around him and Tartarus was gone. Zyon glanced at Phlegethon only to have his vision bleed red and black. There was a deep pulling sensation in his spine and a tingling against his skin. When his vision returned Zyon was standing in the very same alleyway from which he was taken 7 years ago. All he had were the swords in his hands, the clothes on his back, and a lifetime’s experience of surviving hell itself.

“Fuck, now what?” Zyon asked, blinking his eyes harshly. They watered from suddenly being exposed to sunlight after so long in the dark.

Zyon’s survival instincts kicked in. He needed a place to camp that was defensible and had easy access to food and water. He couldn’t exactly hunt when there was no wilderness. He was in New Orleans. He’d have to leave the city to hunt. Perhaps he could eat something here? Cities had places to eat right? “Wait money is a thing, right?” He whispered to himself.

Running a hand through his hair the demi-primordial put his swords in their sheaths and stepped out of the alley. “Oh God! You poor dear!” A voice called out immediately. Zyon’s head whipped around so fast he heard it crack. An old lady was staring at him in horror, her hands covering her mouth. Confused Zyon looked down. He still was wearing his leather armor and it was splattered in blood and monster dust. He didn’t see anything out of the ordinary.

“What is it?” He asked confused. The old lady’s eyes widened even more and began tearing.

“Oh honey. Would you come with me? We could get you cleaned up and get some warm food in you?” She requested, reaching a hand out tentatively. She seemed to desperately want to touch him for some reason.

Zyon’s eyes narrowed warily. “Who are you?”

The old lady’s heart seemed to be literally breaking in her eyes. “My name is Lillian. Please come with me. Stay for just a night. I can’t leave child like you out here in such a condition.”

“What condition? I’m fine.” Zyon was thoroughly confused. Lillian sobbed and Zyon felt panic.

“Ah. Don’t cry, what’s wrong?” He had no idea what to do. How was he supposed to comfort her? Why was she even crying?

“Oh honey! Please?” She asked once more and Zyon found himself nodding. The little old lady gently took his hand, making his startle and began to gently lead him through the streets. Zyon had no idea what was going on but at least she seemed to be calming down. And she clearly had no harmful intentions. And a place to stay for a night sounded good. He needed to get his bearings.

Lillian led him to a cozy looking house as Zyon tried to ignore the gasps and whispers around him. He’d heard of the mist and assumed it had made him look sick or something. Why else would a little old lady be acting like this? He didn’t realize that he a kid covered in blood and dirt was a horrific sight.

At the house, Lillian quickly ran him a bath and while he bathed, she made him a feast of various foods. She wanted there to be at least one thing he would like. In the bath Zyon took his time washing away the blood and dirt. It felt amazing. The water was a bit cool though, so he used his powers to warm the water around him. Sinking down with a sigh, eh closed his eyes. “Ok, this is really nice.” Getting out he through on some sweatpants and a soft shirt she had left him. He wondered why he had something around his size and felt wary again.

Zyon made his way to the kitchen where Lillian was placing out food. “Oh, good it fits. They belonged to my grandson when he used to live here. Come eat honey.”

Zyon tentatively picked up a fork and after watching Lillian use it, he began to eat. The food was warm and shockingly good. “What is this?” He asked, scarfing it down eagerly.

Lillian smiled sadly. “Mac n’ Cheese.” She paused. “Honey, you’re a demigod, aren’t you?”

Zyon froze and his eyes snapped to hers. “What?”

Lillian eyed him gently. “Don’t worry. I’m a legacy. My grandma was a daughter of Aphrodite. I’m clear sighted. You’ve been through a lot. Have you ever gone to camp?”

Zyon’s eyes widened and his brain scrambled. He quickly came up with an edited story. “My dad’s a God but I don’t know which one. Mom died when I was young, so I don’t know much. Been on my own mostly. Could you tell me about the Gods, and what is this camp?”

Lillian quickly and thoroughly told him the history of the Gods, their enemies, how demigods came to be, about Camp Half-Blood, and upon realizing he knew nothing of the world, the basics of mortal society including money, customs, etc.”

“Oh. So that’s why you reacted the way you did…” Zyon trailed off thoughtfully. So, his dad was an enemy of the Gods, great.

Lillian nodded. “Yes. You deserve far more then what you’ve had to deal with. I’m so sorry honey. Dear, what’s your name by the way?”

Zyon smiled sheepishly and chuckled. “Zyon. Thank you for your help.” Lillian only gave him a warm smile and continued to tell him stories. As Lillian just finished the tale of Achilles, the door opened and in came a girl around Zyon’s age. She was pale with light blue eyes and dark-brown hair. The tips had been dyed electric blue.

“Ah Alura! We have another guest.” Lillian called. “Alura, meet Zyon. Another demigod. You two can keep each other safe on your way to camp.” Lillian introduced. “Funny I found both of you in alleyways.”

Alura carefully made her way to the table and sat down. Zyon noticed fading bruises and scars along her arms and his eyes narrowed. He glanced at Lillian questioningly, but she merely shook her head gently, a sad look on her face.

“Nice to meet you.” Alura said emotionlessly, getting a nod from Zyon.

Zyon and Alura ended up staying with Lillian for an entire week. Each morning Zyon had to take a moment to calm his heart as he awoke to foreign surroundings. His instincts demanding, he ensure his own safety. Lillian always gave him a gentle smile when she saw him sitting on the couch, covered in sweat and taking deep breaths. She’d say nothing and simply hand him a cup of soothing tea. She never asked why he seemed so confused or panicked and Zyon was unbelievably thankful.

Alura and Zyon rarely spoke but on the third night Zyon awoke to the sound of sobbing. He got up from the couch and made his way to the guest room where Alura was trapped in nightmare. She twisted in the sheets, clutching at invisible terrors.

“Alura! Alura wake up. You’re safe.” He called urgently. With caution he placed a hand on her shoulder to shake her away and she awoke with a sharp gasp. Alura’s eyes were wide and panicked as she scooted backwards quickly.

“Please..no!” She cried and Zyon quickly stepped back.

“Alura! It’s me Zyon!” He called once more, afraid to get close and make it worse.

“Zy…y..Zyon?” She questioned, her eyes snapping to meet his.

“Yes. It’s me. You’re safe.” He said coming close and crouching on the floor by her bedside. Every bone in his body demanded he help her, but he didn’t know what to do.

Alura decided for him and leaped into his arms sobbing. Zyon caught her and quickly hugged her back. In between sobs Alura confessed her secret. Her father had beat her every night because her mother had disappeared soon after her birth. He blamed her for ‘scaring away her mother’. Zyon felt an overwhelming rage overtake him. But even more so a fierce protective instinct kept him at Alura’s side and whispering words of comfort. Lillian watched them with soft eyes from the doorway.

From that night on Zyon and Alura were attached at the hip. Alura started smiling and even laughing. The two were quickly becoming best friends. Alura eventually showed Zyon her abilities. She could create small balls of light and manipulate the mist. Her mother was Hecate. Soon a week had passed, and it was time for them to head out. Lillian gave them money, food, and a kiss on each of their foreheads.

“Look out for yourselves! And don’t hesitate to visit!”

“Thank you for everything.” Zyon said with a warm smile and Alura nodded.

Soon the two were on the road.

“To camp Half-blood we go. I wonder what it’s like.” Alura said as they walked through a forest. Zyon paused and looked down.

“What is it? What aren’t you telling me?” Alura asked, already fully capable of reading him.

Zyon sighed. “I can’t go. I’ll escort you there, but then I’m gone.”

“What? No! You heard Lillian! It’s the only safe place for demigods!”

“I’m not a demigod! I lied!” Zyon snapped but then froze, terrified to meet her eyes.

Alura froze and stepped away to Zyon. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m a demi-primordial. My dad is Tartarus.” Zyon confessed.

Alura gasped and for a moment silence stretched between them. But then she made a decision, walking forward till she was just a few feet away. “And I’m the daughter of Hecate. So where do we go if not camp?”

Zyon finally looked up and met her eyes. “You… you’re ok with it?”

Alura smiled softly. “You’re already basically my best friend. I’m not abandoning you. And if you can’t go to camp, neither can I.”

“So where do we go bestie?” Zyon asked with a wide smile.

“Wherever we want. I’ve always wanted to see the mountains.” Alura said matching his smile.

“The mountains it is.”


End file.
